Fooding VII: Leftovers

Happy New Year, food-loving-people*! As our memories of gluttonous and raucous holidays fade into the reality of irritating New Year’s resolution-related Facebook updates—if  you announce your intention to post an inspirational quote every day I will de-friend you without hesitation—a small amount of reflection and stock-taking is in order, if only because loopy Aunt Gerta told us to “start as you mean to go on” over the third helping of glazed ham. Also, because it’s still the beginning of the year, we might as well have a plan. 

So for 2012, we have two resolutions of sorts: 1. Waste less food; and 2. Eat more breakfast. Which, when examined carefully, really boil down to one colossal resolution: Eat the leftovers. 

Earth shattering, no? But in many households leftovers are a polarizing subject, and resolving to consume them—rather than creating a fridge full of multiple non-clinical fungi samples—can lead to separation of suppers. 

In a post entitled “Leftovers For One,” Jessica Allen, resident food writer at Maclean’s and blogger at Foodie And The Beast, recently chronicled a pretty typical leftover-related conversation: 

Foodie: We need to scratch the dinner I was going to make tonight.
Beast: You don’t want gnocchi?
Foodie: I really want gnocchi but I accidentally had a Festive Special at Swiss Chalet for lunch today and that means I need to take it easy at dinner. So I was thinking I would just eat my salad that I was supposed to have for lunch for dinner.
Beast: What kind of salad? Would I like it, too?
Foodie: I don’t think so. I just took the leftover vegetables from the night before and added it to a bunch of arugula.
Beast: Yuck! I hate leftovers!
Foodie: I know you do.
Beast: You know what you should call your autobiography?
Foodie: What?
Beast: I Could Get a Lunch Out of That, the Jessica Allen story.

There are, broadly, three types of people when it comes to eating leftovers. First, the Adamant Denier. This person will not eat leftovers if his or her life depends on it, deferring to made-up health concerns (“We can’t eat that lamb chop, it’s been in the fridge in saran wrap for at least two days—probably has five types of botulism by now,”) or, like the Beast, a simple philosophical position (“I hate leftovers”). 

Then there are the Try Hards: those of us who gamely eat leftovers for lunch the next day, because beef stew really does taste better a day later. Try Hards may even attempt to recycle said stew into part of a second dinner. They feel bad about throwing out the remaining two cups of congealed brown remnants on day three, but ingesting that stuff for a third day is basically impossible.

The unabashed Leftover Lovers are evangelical in their zeal to convert the world to leftoverism. Typically they will make gigantic meals—often one-pot casseroles, soups, or stews—and will systematically eat the contents for lunch and dinner for days on end. When they eventually tire of the dish, any unconsumed bits are carefully frozen for future leftover binges and a new pot goes on the stove. 

Most households, including my own, contain at least two diverging opinions on what to do with the ends of meals. Arguments over potential expiry dates abound and result in frequent calls to my chef-trained brother whose Foodsafe knowledge Mr. Fooding and I both defer to. 

Armistice on leftovers arrived in breakfast form in the past few lazy holiday weeks. Again, this is not revolutionary. Half the items on brunch** and breakfast menus citywide are redolent with leftovers. Hash, bubble and squeak, migas: Traditional and delicious, these dishes neatly use up remnants of last night’s dinner without any Groundhog Day-esque repetition. 

So we will waste less food in 2012, and eat more breakfasts of leftovers. The pork chops in my refrigerator won’t fry themselves, so I’m off to pick up some eggs and rescue the soon-to-wilt spinach. Best of luck with your own resolutions.

*Since we despise the term “foodie,” we’re on the hunt for a new term, preferably one that uses zero hyphens. Stay tuned for our findings in a fortnight. 
**We’re not promoting brunch—breakfast is still The A.V. Club’s preferred morning meal.